Ratio
by the-true-Freya
Summary: The world is saved. 3 years later Snow feels lost and can't seem to cope. Meanwhile Hope wants to get his life back on tracks and tries to have a normal life once more. But things aren't that easy and Hope is scared of losing the one person that means the most.
1. Chapter 1

_**Author's******__ note_: I worked 3 to 4 hours on this prologue alone, I will try to make the next chapters longer! I'm not making promises for regular updates because I can't force myself to write when my muse isn't working with me. This story is all planned out, I'll just cross my fingers and hope I'll be able to write all of it down the way I want to.

Let me know what you think!

* * *

The door slowly creaked open, a bright ray of sunlight making its way into the otherwise dark bedroom. A loud snore and drunken mumble vibrated through the air and a reply in the form of a heavy sigh followed from the crack in between the wall and the frame of the door. A shadow fell within the light as the young man put more pressure against the wooden surface and bathed the small space in a radiant glow. He stood still then, sliding his fingers towards the back of his neck and gently scratching as he gathered his wits. Truly, the seventeen-year-old felt awkward and, well, basically just plain embarrassed. Today was his first day of school after three years of fumbling around and grasping for some semblance of normalcy. Only two more years to go, according to the academic tests he was granted, and he was already dreading the fact that he'd have to move out and take care of his own after that.  
The teen didn't want to be alone, but it wasn't his choice. His mother was long gone and his father had followed shortly after, him becoming a l'Cie had left a serious and irreversible impact on his life. Some of it had been good he pondered, after all he wouldn't have been able to meet his new friends… But did that really matter anymore? Two of them were gone already, crystallized in their most glorious moment, together forever… right? The others were either missing or had moved on to new things. They'd forgotten about him, all except for the burly form currently snoozing in the bed opposite from where he stood.  
He wondered how long it was going to last, surely the man would get sick of him soon enough. A cute girl would come his way and he'd be swiped off his feet before long, leaving him behind as he made his first steps into 'real' adulthood whilst Snow started working on his new family.

Not that he was a child still, puberty had been kind to him. He'd let his hair grow slightly longer this time around, the messy silver locks brushing just against the top of his shoulders. From under his fringe two striking, almond-shaped eyes made themselves known, the irises a blend of cerulean and a gentle viridian. His slightly chubby cheeks had evened out and revealed an eye-pleasing jaw line along with it. He had a fine nose and lips that were quite feminine still, a feature inherited by his mother no doubt.  
The youngster wore a neutral white jacket with a path of yellow on each side of the outer sleeve, a green tie that went well with his eyes, dress-pants in an ashen color and black buckle-up boots. The young male now stood a proud 5 foot 6 inches as he'd grown to the likeness of his father. The teen was by no means gangly, but quite slender nonetheless, just not awkward as most his age appeared at this stage. His shoulders had broadened though, he stood straight and he had the air of a nicely matured young man: gentle, yet firm when need be.  
Yes, Hope Estheim had grown beautifully. Strange how all that disappeared and left him naked with insecurities as if nothing had changed these last three years, especially at times such as these.

But the most important thing right now was the fact that Hope wasn't emotionally prepared for this day (the beginning of the end as he liked to call it), it was childish maybe, but the urge to see that amused quirk of lips, that always showed on the other male's face, grew with each second. He had been missing it more and more lately…

Snow lay sideways upon the duvet spread across the king-sized bed that stood at the left side of the bedroom. His tall, muscled frame was still draped in his trademark white overcoat, which was quite wrinkled at this point. His v-necked, low-cut black shirt rode up slightly, revealing sun-kissed skin and chiselled abs. His pants were, thankfully, still on, but the upper buttons were undone and revealed the black boxers underneath. The usual belts and boots seemed to have been removed before his dive into bed, yet his bandana still remained and part of the long, uneven golden-blond locks that reached the top of the male's shoulder-blades showed. His hair had more length than Hope's and badly needed a cut.  
The youth headed towards the edge of the bed, softly sat down and slid a strand away from Snow's straight nose, which was twitching slightly and interrupting the man's snores. The teen chuckled softly, his hero hadn't changed one bit and somehow that thought made him feel better. The sudden surge of fond amusement gave Hope the strength to head out today. He got up and walked silently towards the kitchen, searching the cabinets for painkillers. When he found those he opened one of the two taps situated above the sink and filled a large glass with cold, crystal-clear water. He, then, headed back to the room he came from and placed the two items on the table next to the rest, knowing all too well that Snow would be needing them later.  
The teen turned around with a frown, walked through the hallway and opened the small side table's slide. He grabbed a pen and paper, messily scribbled down a note and left it on the kitchen table. After he was done he looked back at Snow's room one last time, grabbed his dark-green strapped satchel and headed out, leaving the cottage behind him.

* * *

Snow woke up with a start at the sound of the door closing, raised a gloved hand against his brow and pressed his celeste-coloured eyes tightly shut again. The room was dark, thank the deities, but that didn't make much of a difference as the harsh pounding of a massive headache made itself known behind his eyelids.  
He groaned and cursed, loudly. His voice was cracked from the dryness of his throat, courtesy of the alcohol he'd engulfed the night before. The man felt like emery paper was scrubbing his esophagus raw, it was truly and unpleasant sensation so he prepared himself to open his eyes as to eventually get up and maybe just maybe be able to grab the little cup filled with wonder that was stowed away in one of the kitchen's cabinets somewhere.  
He did just that, slowly peeking through his eyelashes, only to be pleasantly surprised when he saw the outline of a glass overflowing with liquid and a closed-off cup filled with those painkillers he wanted so intently. He thanked Hope silently, grateful that the kid would think of him even when he hadn't really done anything to deserve it lately. He'd been too busy pondering on strange inconsistencies in his life to pay attention to what was going on with the younger male anymore.  
He swore to himself that today would be the day that he got his shit back together, but then again he vowed this just about every morning and, well, it never really turned out the way he wanted it to.

Snow couldn't explain it, this feeling that overcame him at random intervals. He would have a strong sense of déjà-vu at any given situation or even at an object, but he could never really put his finger on what it was. It happened mostly around Hope's bedroom and the open-spaced living room they shared. That and the sensation persisted whenever he gazed at the item he, sometimes, wore around his neck. The necklace was made of silver, portraying Cocoon, with a diamond at its center. Beneath it hung delicate craftsmanship, formed much like the crystal pillar that now held the orb up in the sky. The piece was finished with a diamond ring resting on the top of the Cocoon replica and another holding the chain and all the rest together to form a whole.  
His stomach sank even thinking about the blasted thing, but somehow he couldn't get himself to part with it. Grief would make itself a home in his heart and he didn't even know where it came from, just that it was there. It made him feel incomplete, lost, alone even… so much that he would grab for the nearest bottle available to him. That was all good and well, but it was a very temporary solution that always cost him in the mornings, afternoons, whatever.  
Snow rolled his eyes at his own thoughts and grabbed the first of the little white pills he could get his hands on. Yes he knew that this couldn't be healthy in the long run, but what was he to do? He was a mess and he didn't _do_ the whole talking about emotions thing, let alone see a therapist. Heroes didn't need saving, it just wasn't done.

After swallowing two painkillers and emptying the glass, he lay down again and sank into the mattress with a content sigh as he crossed his arms underneath his head. The pulsating pain beneath his skull would recede soon, but in the meantime he figured it wouldn't hurt to rest a bit more.  
Fifteen minutes passed and he already felt marginally better so he shifted into an upright position and stretched, popping his sore muscles and working out the knots in his lower back. After satisfying the urge to yawn he stood up and _stumbled_ towards his bedroom door, the slight buzz still circulating in his veins being the cause.


	2. Chapter 2

_Hey everyone, sorry it took so long. I have a lot of stuff going on you know. You should be expecting max. 1 update every month._  
_I want to thank the people that took the time to review, you guys keep me going! This thing is just a bit more than 2000 words long, that's about 300 words longer than my prologue. I would write more, but I felt that it was a nice place to end this chappie. Please REVIEW, let me know what you think and give me constructive criticism if possible.  
_

* * *

The passage was bright and empty when Snow exited his room and the house was quiet, save for the silent humming of the fridge. The peace and quiet wasn't unusual at this hour for they lived at the outskirts of New Bodhum and the bustle of the bar ajointed to their cottage only started around noon. There was something off though: the run-of-the-mill sounds of Hope's activities were missing. It made him aware of the deep seeded fear of loneliness he harboured. It was a curse, he figured, that he had such easy access to the liquor stowed away in the bar's cabinets, but his masochistic side thought it was more of a gift. Anything to keep that empty feeling from gnawing away at his insides and having it's merry way with his fluctuating emotions…  
He groaned softly at his mind's rambling, running a palm and calloused fingers over his face. What was he thinking again? Oh yes, Hope.

"Where is that kid anyway?" The mumbled question passed his lips with difficulty, his voice sounding rough and muted, yet sudden in the almost-dead silence of the hall. Despite the fact that he'd already had a full glass of water, he was absolutely parched… and _very_ much aware of it. Thus he turned left, dragged his feet along the red-oak floor and made his way into the kitchen.  
He steadied himself when he staggered yet again and multiple times at that, hands firmly pressed against the illuminated white walls beside him. How much _did _he drink last night? Snow couldn't remember, but he was certain it must've been a lot to get him into such a pathetic state. Grumbling at his own stupidity, _'oh how the mighty have fallen!'_, he noted he'd forgotten the glass in his bedroom so he reached for the handle of the brass-coloured cabinet situated above the sink and opened it. He moved his hand towards the back, searching for the last cup available and grabbed it, only to drop it in a moment of clumsiness. It shattered in a shower of glass, the shards glistering in the soft glow of the morning sun that peeked in through the large windows from across the room.  
It was reminiscent to a splash of cold water on a hot summer's day, or at least Snow thought so. What was up with him being so eloquent in thought today anyway? Weren't drunkards supposed to be slow and crude? Maybe it was because he was coveting water so badly right now. Sighing, he pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger and tried to fight off the headache that had, somehow, returned with a vengeance. Then he crouched down with the intent to clear out the mess he made, it wouldn't do for Hope to come back to the place in disarray. He had vowed to himself that the kid would always have a home here, for as long as need be. As the man cleaned, he pondered on life a bit more. Too focussed on his musings he missed a piece and this, of course, came back to bite him in the foot.  
Quite literally! A howl passed his lips, followed by a snarl and a fist that went through the onyx plating of the fridge nearby. Which, in return, malfunctioned and refused to work. "FUCK!" He pretty much craved some alcohol now instead of water. Snow limped towards the kitchen table, leaving a trail of red droplets on the floor, and slumped down on a chair with a sigh. He groaned when he saw the destruction he'd left in his wake, so much for the teen coming across a clean kitchen when he got home.  
As he lamented the situation that had befallen him and pulled the fragment from hell out of his foot, he noticed a note that lay upon the dinning table from the corner of his eye. The fluent writing that he recognised as Hope's was spread across the paper, so he instantly read it, curious of why it was there to begin with.

**Snow,**

**you probably forgot I've got school today, but no biggy. There are some leftovers and a bottle of water in the fridge, I recon you'll need them to get through your hangover. You really should stop drinking so much, you'll end up damaging your liver-**

_'That kid is like a mother hen sometimes I swear...'_

-**and god knows you already have a lack of brain cells floating around in that thick skull of yours**-

"HEY, I resent that!"

- **try not to make it worse. I still need my hero around to save me when I'm in a tight spot y'know. I'll be home at five, don't get into trouble and don't break anything while I'm gone.**

**Love,**

**Hope.**

Well so much for not breaking anything... Though the worst part was that he had, in fact, forgotten about the youngster's first day of school. A strong feeling of disappointment and self-loathing made itself known in the pit of stomach, he felt slightly ill when it wrapped itself around his being. He should've been there for the kid, damnit. But maybe he'd be able to make it up to him, so as he strengthened his resolve he headed towards to bathroom to take a cold shower and freshen himself up. Screw getting a drink, he was going to clean the place up and take the time to start acting like a good big brother should and pick up Hope from school.

* * *

Meanwhile the person in question was shuffling his feet across the pavement, despite having felt better before he really didn't want to go. The stares that followed him around pretty much worsened his mood, you'd think people would get used to the presence of a saviour after 3 years. But no, apparently the novelty of it wouldn't wear off anytime soon. He just hoped that it wouldn't be this bad at school, but it was something he knew he shouldn't look forward to. Determined to be rid of his stress he took in a deep breath of clean air, the best part about living on Pulse in his opinion, ran his fingers through his fringe and smiled. The sun was shining brightly, there were no clouds to be seen in the clear azure skies and the hum of a market nearby gave off a vibe that all was good in the world. He had another 15 minutes before he reached his destination and he was going to make the best of that time.

New Bodhum was already bustling with survivors thanks to the advanced technology engineers and scientists harvested from studying the Fal'Cie and the many contraptions they found in this new world they lived in. Even without Fal'Cie sustaining them life was good thanks to the Academy, which was run by some higher-ups selected by the people and had the remnants of the army at it's disposal. These men and women were trained to go hunting and to protect the farmers that worked the field surrounding the many settlement that were situated near the crystal pillar and covered a rather large part of the surface of 'the world below'. People were still wise enough to avoid the Archlite Steppe, knowing that they wouldn't be able to handle the Adamantortoises and the like. Outside of that area though, the creatures roaming Gran Pulse had long since learned not to get too close to the humans, their instincts telling them that an approach would mean instant death. Once in a while a Wyvern would pass through the sky, but those moments were quite rare.

When he finished school he would start working on new ways to help the people, at least he would feel useful then. With Snow acting the way he was, Hope felt like he was worth jack shit to the man. He did his best: cleaning the place, cooking, amongst other things and thus trying to get the older man's attention, but all was for naught. He often sat alone at the table, that day's dinner long cold as he waited for a man that would never come. Someone that would never… someone that would _never_ return his feelings.  
He bit into the soft flesh of his lower lip, stifling a small whimper that threatened to make its way through. Yes, it was true, Hope Estheim loved Snow Villiers and he had only realised it a short while ago. His world nearly ended that day, he was utterly, irrevocably head over heels with _Snow Villiers_ of _all_ people. He felt like an idiot, he was setting himself up for heartbreak, Hope knew. He would never be able to give the man what he wanted and it hurt so much that every time he thought about it his heart would quicken, his lungs would contract and he would be in agony and without air within seconds.

The day that he would lose his hero was creeping closer, he could feel it, it was nearing albeit slowly… bit still. His fear of the loneliness that would eventually come ran more than skin-deep, it was rooted into his very soul.

When he emerged from his thoughts he noticed a large, beige gate looming in the distance and a big, iron-plated sign that said: NBPS New Bodhum Provincial School. The letters glimmered with a crimson hue and all Hope could think of was how foreboding such a simple title seemed to him.  
His shoulders hunched, his form slouching, he took a breath and slowly made his way through the entrance _'though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death…'_ and was instantly greeted with the sight of a crowd.

Hope mastered his features quickly, reluctant to show people his inner turmoil, and plastered a smile upon his handsome face as a girl spotted him and made her way towards him. Her hair was long and reached mid-waist, the strands a mixture of deep auburn and a soft honey brown. She wore a standard, straight, buttoned up navy-blue jacket that hugged her generous curves, a white blouse underneath and an old-school styled skirt that flowed around her thick, voluptuous thighs. The shoes she wore were of a brown suede and white socks peeked just above the edge near her ankles.  
The young woman's face was heart-shaped and slender, unlike her form. And even though her skin was a clear, alabaster tone she had a couple of freckles dotting her small button nose and a delighted blush gracing her features. The girl's fiery eyes were a molten golden brown and long, dark eyelashes enhanced them. Her smile was gentle yet her body-language was straightforward. She looked like she that had the fire and energy of a thousand suns, but at the same time she had a gentleness befitting a mother. She was the kind of girl that he would have thought to be beautiful once, the kind he could've easily fallen for.

Her name was Hannah Midford he soon learned, as she stumbled over her words in excitement about meeting _the_ Hope Estheim, ex-l'Cie and saviour of Cocoon. One of the people that had made certain that the survivors would have a place to live. Her eyes shone with sincerity and Hope knew then that their conversation and the friendship she offered was genuine. They talked until the bell rang and despite the staring and the whispering and just about every emotion that came along, the silver-haired young man pondered that maybe, just maybe- things wouldn't be as bad as he had originally anticipated.


End file.
